


in the name of what you love

by romanticallyinept



Series: let me be your killer king [3]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Extreme overuse of italics, First Kiss, Intimacy, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Post-Coital Cuddling, Riding, Riri writes het for the first time, Threesome - F/M/M, Touch Aversion, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, kind of, playing fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticallyinept/pseuds/romanticallyinept
Summary: Elliott huffs out a laugh despite himself. He barely resists the urge to say something stupid, like, “I want it to be good for you,” but it’s really only just barely. He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous,” he says instead, and it’s close enough to the truth that he doesn’t feel bad about it. “I’ve got a reputation to live up to, you know.”
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt, Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt/Wraith | Renee Blasey, Mirage | Elliott Witt/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Series: let me be your killer king [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513853
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	in the name of what you love

__

_Oh the things that you do in the name of what you love  
You were doomed but just enough  
You were doomed but just enough._  
-Fall Out Boy

* * *

_**How would you feel about a threesome?** _

Elliott chokes on his drink.

He’s pretty sure that’s the only sane response someone could have to a text like that. He drops his phone to the counter as he coughs, his mouth tucked into his elbow because he’s not a heathen, waving off Natalie’s concerned look, because he’s in the _common area_. They all are. Including the sender of the message that sent him into a coughing fit. “‘m fine!” he croaks. “Fine. Just went down the wrong pipe is all.”

“And here I thought you’d gotten more discerning about what goes inside you,” Renee says. Her voice is barely loud enough for Elliott to hear, but he does hear. He glares at the back of her head and flips her off, but doesn’t deign to reply.

(And if it’s because there _is_ no good reply to that, well. That’s his business.)

He grabs his phone, pulling up Park’s message. It’s still there, still asking him about how he feels about bringing someone else into bed. Now there’s another message under it, too, mocking him from its little purple bubble on the screen.

_**You can say no. Attempting to drown yourself seems a little extreme.** _

Elliott looks over at Park, who’s curled up in the same armchair as Renee. She’s bent over her book, and he’s bent over his phone, and the two of them look entirely too calm and demure for his liking. Neither of them look up at him.

 _If you’re getting bored of me, just say so_ , Elliott sends back. It’s half a joke - it’s half a question, too, even though Elliott’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Park’s not an asshole. If he was done with their relationship, he’d say as much.

There’s a long pause that Elliott definitely doesn’t spend alternating between staring at his phone and staring at the back of Park’s head. He’s invested, now. He’s had threesomes before (and foursomes, and… well, you get the point), but never with someone he actually cared this much about. Never with someone who didn’t like to be touched, either. 

He refuses to feel guilty about the way his brain conjures up a few memories of warm skin under his palms, of slipping inside someone and feeling them tighten around him. It’s Park’s fault he’s thinking them in the first place, and fantasies are harmless, anyone. He’s happy with what they have. But a third? A third could be hot.

His phone buzzes, and he scrambles for the message.

_**Baegchi. For you, not for me. Someone for you to touch.** _

Something swells in Elliott’s chest, something that’s a whole lot like an emotion he doesn’t want to name.

_Who’d you have in mind?_

Instead of replying, Park looks up over the back of the couch. He meets Elliott’s eyes, pointedly, and then, almost in slow motion, lifts his hand and lays it on Renee’s shoulder.

Elliott’s world tilts on its axis.

* * *

It’s not like Elliott hasn’t thought about it. He has. He defies anyone who’s attracted to people of the female persuasion to look at Renee Blasey and _not_ think about it. She’s strong and confident and capable and beautiful, and once or twice Elliott’s jerked himself to completion imagining her holding a kunai to his throat. 

But, honestly, who hasn’t?

Elliott, however, has also _thought_ about it. He’s thought about, how, after Renee’s past came to light, everyone pulled away from her. How they looked at her, afterwards, judging her for a past she didn’t even remember. He’s thought about how, before Park showed up, he and Natalie would sit on either side of Renee on the couch, the only two people willing to be that close to her. He’s thought about how being a _friend_ is more important than getting his dick wet.

After Park, Renee’s fan club of two grew to three. She and Park clicked instantly, and Elliott’s glad for it, because he’s not sure what he would do if his boyfriend and his best friend didn’t get along. But they do - and apparently, they get along well enough for Park to consider a threesome with her. 

It’s been three days, and Elliott still hasn’t given an answer. He feels like he needs to talk to Renee, but starting _that_ conversation isn’t something he’s looking forward to. He has no problem picking someone up at a bar, but when there’s feelings involved? That’s a different story. That requires tact. Delicacy. With a stranger, there’s nothing to lose other than perhaps some pride. With Renee… there’s so much more.

Elliott’s still kicking around ideas on the fourth day. Between matches and recuperation time, he hasn’t had a chance to sit down with Park or Renee, so it’s barely noon when he makes himself a drink, because _fuck_ , he needs something to help him calm the fuck down or he’s going to spontaneously combust before he can even give Park a solid answer. 

He’s the only one kicking around the kitchen when Park and Renee walk in. It’s not unusual for them to be together - if Park’s not with Elliott, the trickster tends to assume he’s either holed up in his room alone or off with Renee, doing whatever the two of them do. But now, with the hacker’s suggestion floating around in his brain, the two of them look anything but inconspicuous. 

Elliott plasters a smile on his face to hide the way his gut is twisting. He’s never been one to get nervous but… but those are definitely butterflies in his insides, and his heart is stuttering in his chest. He is nervous. God, he hates this. 

“My ninja babes!” he calls, and his voice is even, because Elliott Witt is cool, calm, and collected, and he is not the type to get nervous about a threesome. No siree. Setting his drink on the bar, he walks around to meet them. Park smiles at him, one of those soft, private smiles that Elliott is slowly growing addicted to, and it’s stupid, but he loves it.

Park doesn’t kiss him in greeting, but he does draw Elliott in close and press their foreheads together. “ _Aein_ ,” he murmurs, and that one’s new, not one of the words Elliott has looked up yet, but there’s no mistaking the affection in Park’s voice. It warms Elliott to the core, more than any alcohol ever could.

And because teasing is the name of Elliott Witt’s game, he turns to Renee, throwing his arms out like he’s about to wrap her up in a hug. He purses his lips ridiculously, wiggling his eyebrows a little, and he mostly expects her to roll her eyes and walk away because that’s what she’s done every other time he’s flirted in her direction. But instead, she gives him a once-over, considering, and then looks at Park.

“You can kiss him,” the hacker says, and then his dark eyes focus on Elliott. “If that’s all right with you, of course, my dear.”

Elliott makes a sound that’s far too close to a squeak for his liking. Calm, cool, and collected flies out the window because now he’s face-to-face with it, with the prospect of kissing someone while his boyfriend stands not three feet away and… and watches. Approves. _Fuck_. 

Renee looks back at him, and there’s a glint in her eye that Elliott’s all-too familiar with. It’s predatory, the same look Park gets when Eliott’s spread out and at his mercy, and it resonates within him in the same way. He shivers, faintly. Renee doesn’t even look dangerous at the moment - she’s dressed down, casual, forgoing the Voidwalker suit for dark leggings and a form-fitting shirt, topped off with a scarf that’s looped around her neck. But for all she looks harmless, Elliott knows she isn’t. And god, he has a type, because that knowledge makes his pants feel a little tighter and makes his pulse kick up a few notches. 

Renee reaches up, her fingertips tracing along Elliott’s jaw. The touch is soft, and there’s none of the familiar drag of the cybernetic implants Park has - it’s just skin against skin, and the touch lights him up from the inside out. He makes a sound that’s half a moan, half a whimper, and then Renee’s leaning in, closing the last few inches between them, and _oh_. 

Renee doesn’t dominate the kiss. She guides him into it, gentle and easy, cupping his jaw with her hand, and Elliott can’t do anything other than melt. He’s joked and teased about making out with Renee more times than he can remember, but the reality of it is different than he’d imagined. For one, he’s not pulling at her clothes, trying to get them both naked. For another, they’re not alone. Elliott shivers as he remembers that, and with what feels like a smile, Renee leans back.

“You’re right,” she says, glancing over at Park. “He does think too much.”

Elliott opens his mouth to protest. Of all the things he’s been accused of in his life, thinking _too much_ has never been on the list. But then he looks over at his boyfriend and the protest dies in his throat. Park is looking at the two of them, and his eyes are dark, and there’s a heat in them that makes Elliott’s stomach flip-flop. The desire in Park’s expression isn’t masked at all. He _wants_ , and god, Elliott wants to give it to him. 

“Yes,” Elliot blurts. Renee raises an eyebrow, and Elliott realizes that his internal monologue is just that - internal. “Yes to the… to the us, I mean.” _Smooth, Witt_. When he speaks again, his voice has risen almost an octave. “Anyway. Tonight? Or we could wait - no rush. ‘Can’t rush a good thing’ my mom always says. Shit. I probably shouldn’t be talking about my mom. Is it weird? It’s weird.”

Embarrassment is hot on Elliott’s face, but Park and Renee don’t even have the good sense to look exasperated. They’re both just looking at him, and their expressions are unbearably… fond. Caring. Elliott’s (almost) used to that from his boyfriend, but Renee? Renee’s just as likely to give him a pat on the back as she is to shove him off a cliff. Affectionately, of course. 

“You’re being weird,” Renee confirms. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this, Witt. I’m not going to be offended. Well,” she amends, “maybe I’ll be a little offended. But not enough to throw a bitch fit or anything.”

Elliott huffs out a laugh despite himself. He barely resists the urge to say something stupid, like, “ _I want it to be good for you,_ ” but it’s really only just barely. He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous,” he says instead, and it’s close enough to the truth that he doesn’t feel bad about it. “I’ve got a reputation to live up to, you know.”

Renee scoffs, and from the corner of his eye Elliott sees Park roll his eyes. The atmosphere shifts, then, and suddenly Elliott can breathe a little easier. Things are going to be okay. _They’ll_ be okay, and he’s sure of it now.

The anxiety he’s been feeling for the past few days slowly starts to ebb away, but something else comes up in its place. Now that he’s not worried, his brain apparently has the time and resources to produce other chemicals: namely, the ones that make his pants tent and his heart rate pick up. 

“Elliott,” Park says, before the trickster can say anything about his change of mindset. “You suggested tonight. I believe that works for me. Renee?”

“Nothing else on my schedule.”

“Good.” Park nods, like it’s settled. Is it settled? Maybe that’s it. Park and Renee have clearly already talked about it, and Elliott’s always been more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. 

But there is something important he needs to know. “Um,” he starts eloquently. “I don’t… is there anything I should know? Like, that’s off the list. No-nos. Limits. Prefe… prefefer… preref… fucking, _likes._ I mean, mostly on the dislikes side of that. Like for example,” he adds quickly, when Renee’s expression just goes confused, “I can’t do temperature stuff. Like, fire, or shit like that. So it’s a no for me. And I’ll be honest, it doesn’t come up all the time, because believe it or not most people don’t get me into bed and think ‘huh, he’d look pretty on fire’, but yeah. Limits like that. I don’t want to accidentally get into a no-go zone, because it sucks for everyone involved. So that’s… probably something I should know?”

His voice trails off at the end, turning the sentence into a question. It is the absolute worst way he’s ever asked someone what’s not an option. Ever. He’d be mortified, except Renee is looking at him with a complicated expression on her face. Whatever the look is, she’s definitely not laughing at him, and that’s helping _him_ not laugh at him. 

“Restraints,” she says after a moment. “Gags. Choking. That okay?”

“Of course,” Park says, at the same time that Elliott nods, vigorously. 

“Yes,” he says. He’s being repetitive, but it doesn’t matter. “Yes, that’s okay. Totally okay. I wasn’t thinking we’d get all that kinky tonight, anyway. I mean, aside from the kinkiness that comes from there being three of us. Nothing over the top. Just…” He trails off, waving a hand.

“Just touching,” Renee finishes for him. “Yeah. You’re more than welcome to touch all you want, Witt.”

It’s not a particularly sexy sentence, but Elliott still feels his dick twitch in his pants. And he knows that Renee probably doesn’t mean _right now_ , but he still takes a step forward, his hand reaching out towards her waist. He hesitates halfway there, giving her time to step back if she wants to, but she doesn’t. Instead, she moves into the touch, guiding his hand to come rest on her hip.

Elliott flexes his fingers, and just like that his thumb slips under the hem of her shirt, brushing against the pale, bare skin of her hip. He has the sudden urge to lick that little strip of visible skin, to put his mouth on it, because Elliott’s _good_ with his mouth, and also because doing that would put him on his knees and honestly, he’s surprised they’ve lasted this long. 

And Elliott hates the phrase “eat you out” but that’s what he wants to do. He wants to put himself between Renee’s thighs and spread her open with his tongue. He wants to taste her, wants to _feel_ her against his mouth, hot and slick and wanting. He wants to touch, and he doesn’t want to wait for however many hours it is until the evening. 

“You busy now?” he asks, and for a moment, Renee’s smile is blinding.

* * *

Elliott’s not sure what he expects, when they get to his room. Maybe a little awkwardness, maybe some hesitation, but there’s none. Renee walks in behind him, and she’s on him immediately, pressing him up against the wall and _kissing_ him. It’s nothing like the kiss they shared in the common area - this one is hot and needy, demanding, and Elliott can feel it all the way to the tips of his toes. He groans against her mouth, his hands fluttering aimlessly for a moment before settling on her waist and drawing her in closer, pressing their bodies together. It sends a thrill up his spine, and he shivers. 

Somewhere behind Renee, Park chuckles. The sound is deep and dark, and being laughed at shouldn’t be arousing, but Elliott’s brain has never been wired quite correctly and instead of getting annoyed, he groans again, his hips twitching just a little as his body searches for friction. 

“Someone’s eager,” Renee murmurs, and she sounds like she’s still put together, like she could walk away and _not_ have to take a cold shower immediately, and that’s just not okay. Elliott wants her to be affected, wants her flushed and panting and wanting just as much as he is. 

“Bed,” he says. And then, “Oral?” because asking for permission is so, so much better than asking for forgiveness.

Renee pulls back, and Elliott misses the heat of her immediately. He’s already gotten used to it, and he’s not keen on giving it up before he absolutely has to. But Renee has a look on her face, and it’s complicated, and Elliott doesn’t have the brainpower to process complicated expressions because his body is redirecting all of his blood flow to his dick. Then Renee shifts, reaching up to gather her hair into a ponytail behind her head, and Elliott gets it.

“Giving!” he says, a bit too loudly. “I mean, I want to give. To you. Cunni… cunnini… canil… ugh, whatever, with my tongue. I want to go down on you, or... you know. Not that a blowjob doesn’t sound, um, fucking amazing, because it does, and that can totally be on the table for later, I just…” Elliott pauses, takes a breath, before his voice can get too frantic. “You can say no, obviously,” he continues after a moment, and the pace of his speaking has slowed down significantly, but his heart still feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. “I just… I like giving head.”

Park’s laughing at him, Elliott’s sure, in that silent way of his that only shows in his eyes. He doesn’t have to look over at the other man to know. If the situations were reversed, Elliott would be laughing, too, except Park would never lose his cool over something like _sex_. An upgrade for Jee? Maybe. But not over the prospect of getting to bury his face between a lovely pair of thighs and lose himself in the pleasure of bringing someone else pleasure.

“Elliott,” Renee says quietly, and _fuck_ , he’s gotten what he wanted. Renee definitely sounds affected - he’s never heard her voice curl around his name like that, like saying it is an act of pleasure in and of itself. “Take off your fucking clothes.”

Elliott throws a two-fingered mock salute, grinning from ear to ear as his hands go to the back of his neck, searching for the zipper on his holosuit. His fingers fumble and he wears under his breath - Renee had the good sense to dress down, but he rarely wears anything other than the suit, on or off the ship. He’s taken it off probably a million times, but excitement is making him clumsy. Well, clumsier than usual, anyway. 

He’s about to huff in frustration when someone steps up behind him, pressing a solid, warm body up against his back. Hands settle on his hips, familiar and possessive, and Elliott grins again, letting his head drop back to lay on Park’s shoulder. “Hey, babe,” he murmurs. “Gonna help me out?”

Parks hums, his hands creeping up Elliott’s sides. He doesn’t answer, not verbally, but the way his fingers move to the suit’s hidden zippers is answer enough. Elliott shifts, happy to let the other man take over the task, since it frees him to focus on… other things.

Renee is undressing as well, and Elliott doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes rove over her body, taking in every inch of newly revealed skin. She’s sliding her leggings down when he looks over, and it twists something in his gut when he sees what she’s wearing underneath. The underwear are simple, no lace or bows or impractical straps, just plain yellow cotton that contrasts with the black sports bra she’s also wearing. It’s not fancy, but that’s part of what makes it hot.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Park murmurs in his ear. He eases the zipper down Elliott’s back, slowly enough that Elliott imagines he can feel each individual metal tooth untwining from the rest. “She told me all about the little crush you used to have on her,” Park continues. “And I told her all about how it never really went away.”

Elliott feels himself flush as Park slides the suit off his shoulders. It’s the embarrassing kind of blush, the one that bleeds down his neck and onto his chest, which Park has so courteously exposed. But he can’t find it in him to protest, because the hacker’s hands trace the path of the blush, rough thumbs glancing over Elliott’s nipples before moving to push the suit farther down, over his hips and down his thighs. Elliott kicks out of it, and then he’s in his underwear, too, tight black briefs that make his ass look _great_ , thank you very much, and don’t leave a pantyline on the holosuit.

Park’s hand slips down farther, cupping his cock through the thin material of his underwear. Elliott’s already half hard, and he thrusts up into the pressure, letting his eyes flutter shut. It’s a wanton movement, and a lesser man might be embarrassed about showing desire like that, but Elliott’s never been afraid to speak his mind, or, in this case, show it.

“That’s a really pretty show and all,” Renee says, across the room, “but I was promised something, and watching you jerk off your boyfriend wasn’t it, Park.”

Park mutters something under his breath, and for a moment Elliott thinks the hacker isn’t going to move, thinks he’s going to stand there and make Elliott grind up against his hand while Renee watches, and he can’t help the hot shame mixed with arousal that floods his system. But Park doesn’t do that. He ducks his head, dragging his teeth over the place where Elliott’s neck meets his shoulder, sharp and possessive and good, and then he shoves him forward unceremoniously. 

Elliott stumbles, tossing a glare back over his shoulder, but his boyfriend just smiles softly and nods. Unhelpful, as always. Elliott sticks his tongue out for no reason other than he can, and then he turns back to Renee.

“That’s more like it,” she says, flashing a grin, and Elliott doesn’t hesitate in closing the distance between them and drawing the woman into his arms. 

Renee mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _finally_ , but Elliott catches the sounds with his own mouth, swallowing them down as he presses up against her. His hands slide around her waist, and he’s about to cock his head to slot their mouths together, to really kiss her, deeply and thoroughly, but she beats him to it. She leans into him, her tongue pressing against the seam of his lips, and Elliott groans before granting her entrance. There’s no two ways about it, either - she tongue-fucks his mouth like she owns it, and Elliott finds his grip on her waist turning less teasing and more stabilizing as his knees threaten to give out from underneath him.

“ _Bed,_ ” he gasps, when she pulls back, taking a mental snapshot of the grin he gets in return. She takes two step backwards, falling down to sit on the bed gracefully when the backs of her knees hit it. Elliott doesn’t waste any time - he all but crawls into her lap, pushing her down gently with a hand on her chest. She goes, squirming a little, and then spreads her legs as he settles between them.

Renee clearly expects him to forego foreplay and dive into the main event, if the pleased gasp she makes when Elliott leans down to kiss her stomach is anything to go by. The sound encourages him, and he continues his exploration of her skin, scraping his teeth over her hipbone, mouthing kisses up her inner thighs, tracing his fingers over the place where her underwear gives way to soft, pale skin.

He nips a little harder than intended, near enough to the apex of her thighs that he can feel the heat of her, and a bruise blossoms under his mouth. The mark itself is nice, but the moan that breaks free from Renee’s lips is fucking _fantastic._

“Fuck, _Elliott_.” She lifts her hips, arching towards nonexistent stimulation. “ _Come on_.”

Elliott thinks about teasing her further, about tracing his lips over where she wants him the most before kissing his way back down her legs, but he’s starting to feel impatient, too. He wants pleasure to wreck them both, and as nice as they are, his teasing touches aren’t going to get either of them there.

He hooks two fingers under the waistband of her underwear, giving them a gentle tugg. “Off?” he asks, and Renee lifts her hips obligingly, letting him pull the fabric down and away. He turns to toss the garment onto his desk, and in the process he catches Park’s gaze, which is fixed on him and Renee with an intensity that’s almost predatory. Elliott feels it like a physical touch, raking over his body, and it feels so goddamn _right_ his head spins with it for a moment. 

Renee shifts underneath him, a tiny movement, but it draws his attention back to her, back to the way she’s spread out underneath him. “Fuck,” he says, and for once he’s actually at a loss for words. 

It’s a good thing, then, that he has other things to occupy his mouth with. 

Renee’s skin tastes like soap and salt and sweat, and Elliott chases the taste of her up her thigh with his mouth, dragging his tongue against soft, pale skin. As he nears the apex of her thighs, he feels a hand slip into his hair, and, after a moment, curl into a fist around the strands.

“Stop teasing,” Renee breathes, and Elliott finally does.

She’s wet where his finger finds her, slipping easily into the heat of her as his mouth closes around her clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue against the little bud, pumping his finger a few times to make sure it’s well and truly slick. It’s been a while, but the mechanics never change - that’s evident enough when he curls his finger and Renee shivers bodily. Elliott’s sure she can feel his grin, but he doesn’t give her time to comment.

Twisting his finger, Elliott flattens his tongue against her clit, relishing the soft moan he hears above him. He earns another quiet sound when his tongue joins his finger to probe at her entrance, the thumb of his other hand rubbing tight, slow circles around her clit. 

There’s another groan, a deeper one, from somewhere off to Elliott’s right. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t turn to look at Park, but his hips do jerk inadvertently forward against the mattress when the other man grits out, “Renee, fuck, do you mind if…”

Park doesn’t get to finish the sentence, because Renee says, “Yes,” almost immediately, and then Elliott is treated to the sound, if not the sight, of Park unzipping his pants. The trickster groans, pressing a little harder with his fingers as his arousal goes from simmering to fiery, and Renee arches up into the touch with a moan. Her thighs squeeze around his head for a brief moment before falling open, and it’s not an orgasm, but it’s a release of tension all the same, a small surrender to the pleasure he’s bringing her.

Park spits, the sound unmistakable, and then groans again as, Elliott guesses, he takes himself in hand. He wants to turn his head to watch, but the tension in Renee’s muscles is beginning to ratchet up again. Her fingers spasm in his hair, like she’s torn between pushing him away and dragging him closer, and Elliott can’t help but make a soft, desperate sound at the thought.

He’s missed _touching_.

He leans back a little to breathe, just for a moment, sparing a glance up at Renee, taking in her flushed skin and dark eyes, fixed firmly on him. She bites her bottom lip, and Elliott’s cock jerks in his pants. Then he makes the mistakes of looking over at Park.

The hacker is sprawled low in the chair, pants pulled down just far enough to let him fist his own cock. He’s stroking it slowly, although Elliott can see that the tup is flushed red and leaking. He’s fairly certain that, if they traded places, he couldn’t maintain anything close to that amount of control.

The brief interlude only lasts for a breath or two, and then Elliott is burying himself between Renee’s thighs again, adding a second finger before curling them, hard and deliberate. His tongue finds her clit again, the tip of it slipping under the hood to flick rapidly against the hard bud. He hums, sucks, and that’s it.

Renee comes with a cry, her fingers tightening almost to the point of pain in Elliott’s hair, but the sharp hurt is worth the way Renee’s back arches, the way she throws her head back with shameless pleasure, the way Elliott’s chin feels wet with her slick. He leans back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His own arousal is heavy and hard, bobbing against his stomach, but he’s not selfish enough to demand anything be done about it. He’s more than happy to reach down and take himself in hand, pulling on his cock a little faster than normal, because his pulse is pounding in his ears and Renee’s taste is still thick and heavy in his mouth.

He manages two strokes before Renee’s legs wrap around his waist, and then she flips them so effortlessly it makes Elliott’s stomach swoop. She bats his hand away from his own groin as she straddles him, raising one eye at the desperate, pained noise he makes. 

“Good?” she asks, as her own fingers wrap around his cock.

Elliott nods frantically, even if he’s not sure what she’s asking for. He’s only unsure for a moment, though. Shifting, Renee guides his cock between her legs and then, in one smooth motion, sinks down onto him.

Elliott chokes on his next breath.

She’s beautiful above him, hair loose around her shoulders, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and wild. She grins when she notices him looking, rolling her hips in a way that has him stuttering for breath again.

“I don’t do slow,” she says, and Elliott takes it like the warning it so clearly is. He braces his feet against the bed and throws one hand back behind himself against the headboard, while the other settles carefully on Renee’s hip. 

“Renee,” he begins, with exactly zero idea of what the rest of the sentence is going to be. She saves him from his own lack of forethought, though. One of her hands slides across his mouth, effectively silencing him, and from across the room Elliott hears a soft sound.

“ _Ssibal!_ ”

Renee’s palm stays firmly on his mouth as he turns his head, his eyes finding Park immediately. The sound he makes is muffled, but no less obviously desperately aroused. Park is the very picture of debauchery - his shirt is rucked up under his arms, his pants unzipped, his face flush and lax and… Elliott groans, hips bucking up of their own accord at the sight of come splattered over Park’s chest, his own release shiny against his pale skin. 

Renee rocks her hips purposefully, drawing his attention back to her. It’s just on the right side of too much, having them both looking at him, seeing him, and Elliott’s fairly sure he’s going to embarrass himself before Renee so much as twitches again. But then she leans down, her lips brushing his cheek, and murmurs, “Don’t come until I’m done with you, Witt.”

And Elliott Witt is a lot of things, but he is _not_ a disappointing lover.

The next time she rocks down, Elliott tilts his hips up, meeting her with a sharp little thrust. She gasps above him, her hands slamming down on his chest for balance, her fingernails digging into his chest for a moment, bright pinpricks of pain cutting through the pleasure he’s feeling. “Fuck,” she hisses under her breath, then, “Fuck, _again_.”

So Elliott does it again, and again, letting Renee set the pace but still meeting her, thrust for thrust, every time she bottoms out. And he can feel it every time he hits that spot just right, because she fucking _clenches_ around him, and her rhythm stutters for a moment before she gets herself back under control. She rides him like it’s a fucking mission, and being the focus of all that intensity would be terrifying if it wasn’t so damn hot.

Elliott can feel heat coiling low in his belly, slowly urging him towards his own peak, and he’s not going to last, damn it. But instead of trying to back himself off the edge (a lost cause if he’s ever encountered one) he peels his hand off the headboard and splays his fingers across Renee’s belly, his thumb pointed downward and just barely dipping between her legs. The next time she rocks down, he presses his thumb up, and, god, the sound she makes is going to be ringing in his ears for weeks.

She falls forward, her hands braced on his shoulders, rocking back and forth in short, sharp little movements, grinding up against his fingers and then down against his cock. Her breaths are coming in hitching little gasps, and her eyes are screwed shut and her muscles are tense, and she lingers there so long that Elliott starts to wonder if it’s enough, if she needs more, but then his foot slips where it’s braced against the bed and he jerks and she comes.

Elliott’s world narrows to the clench of tight, wet heat around him, to the shivering spasms wracking Renee’s body, to the way her hands flutter and curl around his chest as she rides the waves of her orgasm. Elliott manages another breath before he spills, still enveloped in her tight, wet heat, and maybe his vision goes a little hazy around the edges but it’s fine, it’s fine, because Renee’s edges are fucking blurring with static, too.

It’s void energy, not static, but for the moment, Elliott is too blissed out to care about the difference. 

Renee slides down onto his chest with a soft sigh, immediately tucking herself against him - her head under his chin, her arms along his sides. It’s a lot of skin-on-skin, and Elliott shivers with it, slowly bringing his own arms up to wrap around her. The fingers of one hand find their way to her hair, gently carding through the long, dark strands, and it’s comfortable and intimate and fuck, he’s missed this.

A glance at Park tells him the other man has cleaned himself up, tucked himself away, but he’s still looking at the pair of them with desire in his eyes. It’s not burning quite as hot, but it’s still there, simmering molten on a back-burner, and fuck, Elliott’s hooked on that look, easy for the emotion he knows is behind it. 

Park stands, straightening his jacket, and then moves over to the bed, bending at the waist to brush a kiss over Elliott’s forehead. “Stay,” he murmurs quietly. “I have work to do, but you should stay.”

Renee mumbles something that sounds like agreement, and Elliott finds that he doesn’t really want to argue. He offers the other man a smile, a small, genuine one, a silent thanks for this gift he put together. 

Love you, he mouths, and for a moment, Park just stares at him, a pleased, surprised expression on his face. Then he leans down and presses their foreheads together, lingering in Elliott’s space for a long moment.

Park doesn’t say it back, but he kisses the tip of Elliott’s nose, and then his cheek, and then brushes his lips over Renee’s hair, and really, that’s the same damn thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooo, yeah, I disappear for months and then return with het. I know. I know. Lecture me in the comments. 
> 
> (Plz don't lecture me I am soft!)


End file.
